


Pas de Deux

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: Outside Edge [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crushes, M/M, Skating, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 23:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10398636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: Kurt is minding his own business, teaching his little group of beginner skaters the basics, when a spy from the opposite side of the rink infiltrates his midst.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot for a larger story that I'm writing called "Outside Edge" with Kurt and Sebastian as rival figure skaters. I'm just putting this out there to see who might be interested. Let me know what you think in the comments.

Kurt takes a spin around his little group of novice skaters, counting heads as he glides along on their coned-off section of the rink and double-checking that everyone is accounted for. He’s glad he was able to snag the ages five through seven pre-alpha group. It’s so nice to be able to usher an excited gaggle of beginners towards their first swizzles down the ice, even if he will have to scoop up a few along the way. But that’s all right. That just means less arm and chest work he’ll have to do at the gym later on.

He has an even dozen, which is a good size for a group this age, at this skill level. As they progress, he’ll be able to choreograph a number for them, something they can show off to their parents on the last day of class. It helps that Kurt is currently co-captain of Westerville Ice-plex’s official competition figure skating dance team – ParadIce. The kids in his group – boys and girls alike – stare at him in envious, open-mouthed awed as he twirls around them, dressed in his bedazzled black team jacket.

Nope, he doesn’t foresee any discipline problems here.

“Okay guys, we’re going to start with a simple swizzle – forward and back, just like I showed you last time …” He demonstrates it again while he speaks, just to be sure they understand “… and then we’re going to take it down the ice. So let me see you guys swizzle.” Kurt smiles encouragingly as the lock-kneed and slightly shaky group tries their hands at this elementary move, the lot of them swaying back and forth like unsteady ships on an ironically calm sea. One poor boy in a puffy red jacket drops straight to the ice the second his feet move from start position while, at the front of the line, a taller-than-average girl with curly brown hair peeking out from underneath a rainbow tie-dyed helmet catches on right away. Kurt smiles at her approvingly. There’s usually one natural in the bunch, and Kurt already knows she’s going to be the one to beat in this group.

“Good,” Kurt says, rushing to catch the little boy in the red jacket before he hits the ice for a fourth time. “Now we’re going to travel down the length of the ice in pairs. I want to see long necks, heads up, shoulders squared, and arms out.” He strikes this pose, and the kids do their best to mimic him. It’s so adorable, he wishes he could stop and take a picture. He’ll have to remember for next time. Parents love to see their kids on the website. It pretty much guarantees they’ll sign them up for the next session. “And … begin.” He steps back as the group passes, some with excellent form like the girl in front, and some barely managing to stay upright, like the boy in the red jacket, arms already windmilling, threatening to take two other kids with him the next time he falls. “Swizzle, swizzle - good, swizzle, swiz---” Kurt pauses when he sees a lone skater bringing up the end of his group. Kurt watches him expertly swizzle down the ice, almost giving the girl in the front a run for her money. Except, unlike the rest of his class, who are mostly bedecked in figure skating leggings from Justice, puff jackets, colorful helmets, and white or black figure skates, this boy is wearing a long-sleeve tee, jean shorts, shin guards … and hockey skates.

“Hold up, hold up, hold up,” Kurt calls as his small group reaches the wall, rushing to grab the narrow edge as if their bowed-legs and lives depended on it. Kurt catches up to the last boy just as he skillfully skids to a stop. “You, in the jorts …” Kurt points, indicating the boy’s style choice while suppressing a pained eye roll “… are you in my class?”

“Uh, yeah,” the boy answers with a smirk … one that’s all too familiar for Kurt’s taste. “Sure.”

“A-ha,” Kurt says, catching on quickly to what’s going on. “And what’s your name?”

“Michael.” The boy’s shifty eyes dart down the length of the ice while he tries not to snicker. “Michael Clemens.”

“Yeah, I don’t have a Michael Clemens on my roll call sheet,” Kurt says without checking it.

“That’s because I’m new,” the boy says, lips pulling tight so he doesn’t laugh. “My mom just signed me up this morning.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. He can’t believe this. The immaturity. He stands up straight, looking over rows of skaters to the other side of the rink where another boy his age, working with a group of hockey players, shoots a look back at him, doing a better job at not giving himself away than the boy in front of him … but not by much. “I see. Jane?” Kurt waves at another instructor off-ice. She looks up at the sound of her name. “Can you come here, please? I need you for a second.”

“Surely,” she says, smiling at Kurt’s group of confused skaters. She steps on the ice, ready to take over for the moment.

“You guys stay by the wall and practice your swizzles,” Kurt says to his pre-alphas. “Jane’s going to keep an eye on you. Except you.” Kurt points at the boy whose face has gone scarlet while he fights not to break down. “ _You_ come with me.” Kurt motions with his finger, leading the boy around the outer edge of the rink to where a group of similarly dressed children are practicing T-stops.

 _Jorts_ , Kurt judges silently. _Why are they all wearing jorts? What? Did he make that a requirement or something? Those poor kids._

“Very nice,” their leader cheers, clapping his hands with enthusiasm, extremely focused on his skaters. But Kurt can see his eyes clearly now, and the twitching in his cheek as he forces himself _not_ to watch Kurt glide to a stop beside him.

“Smythe, do you really need to send your minions down to my end of the rink to infiltrate my class as an excuse to talk to me?”

“Hummel,” Sebastian replies without taking his eyes off of his slightly more advanced group of skaters, “I think _you’re_ the one using it as an excuse.”

“Me?” Kurt crosses his arms. “How am _I_ using it as an excuse?”

“Well, you didn’t _have_ to escort him all the way back over here. He knows the way.”

“I’m just bringing him over to make sure his instructor gets the message.”

“And what message is that?”

“That you and your band of ruffians need to stay on this end of the rink so that me and my figure skaters can get to the business of practicing grace and elegance.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sebastian peeks over at Kurt’s pre-alphas on the other end of the rink in time to watch a boy in a red jacket flop backward, knocking over one other boy _and_ the substitute instructor. “Good luck with that. And what will you do if we don’t?”

Kurt closes the few feet between them, coming to a stop inches away from Sebastian’s face. Sebastian’s eyes, glowing with mischief, turn from his skaters to the young man beside him, standing close enough for Sebastian to smell the floral cologne he wears, feel the heat of his breath wash over the cold of Sebastian’s cheeks. “Why don’t you meet me at my pond after class and you’ll find out.”

The corner of Sebastian’s mouth climbs into a smirk. Kurt wonders how many times he smiles like that during class seeing as it’s started to infect the kids in his group. “I guess I will,” Sebastian promises, giving Kurt a wink before he returns his attention to his class, which is fine by Kurt, since he has a group of his own to go back to. He pushes backward on his left blade, spins on one leg, and heads back to his end of the rink.

Sebastian watches Kurt skate away, swaying left to right as he sashays back to his pre-alphas. Sebastian tries not to be too obvious about his ogling, especially with parents close by, but he can’t help whistling low at just how snug Kurt’s pants are, how tightly they hug his legs.

“So, how did I do, coach?” Michael pipes up, having creeped up on Sebastian’s right when he saw Kurt leave.

“Excellent,” Sebastian says, offering the kid a high-five. “Perfect. You definitely earned that Snickers bar.”

“Yes!” Michael cheers, doing a victory dance on the toes of his blades.

“Why don’t you go back to practicing stops with the other kids?” Sebastian says, shooing Michael away with a pat on the shoulder. “Okay, guys and gals. I need another volunteer.” Hands shoot into the air. For the promise of a Snickers bar, most of his kids will do anything. Sebastian points to one young lady bouncing up and down, her slick black ponytail thrashing behind her as she lands. “Okay, Sheila. You’re up.” She jumps to it, hurrying through the crowd of kids going back to their T-stops.

“Okay, buddy.” Sebastian takes a knee. He watches Kurt relieve the substitute coach, helping her brush off a patch of snow from the back of her jacket before he rejoins his group. Kurt raises his arms. He looks across the ice in search of Sebastian. He seems disappointed when he doesn’t see him, but returns to his kids, grabbing for the boy in the red jacket as he drops out of sight. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, coach,” Sheila says, giggling as she prepares to take off on her mission. Sebastian waits until Kurt starts his kids up again, swizzling back across the ice, then gives her a nudge.

“Go.”

 


End file.
